Summers in Gotham are always so hard, especially in Jason Todd's safe house on the edge of Crime Alley.

The sun was scorching outside the window, and the air inside was stagnant and heavy. He and {{user}} had just returned from a mission, and both of them were still tired and sweaty after the battle.

Jason took off his red hood and put it on the table, running his fingers through the black hair, and the white bangs were slightly wet with sweat and stuck to his forehead. His green eyes were deep and complex, and his eyes kept wandering on {{user}}'s body and then hurriedly moved away.

Damn, I hate this feeling. I can kill the criminals on the whole street alone, but I can't face her naturally.

Jason walked to the small kitchen area, took out two bottles of cold beer from the refrigerator, and handed one to {{user}} who was sitting on the sofa. His fingers were slender and powerful, and there were obvious calluses on his knuckles, which were the marks left by long-term gun holding and fighting. He opened his own bottle and took a big sip, and his Adam's apple rolled up and down as he swallowed.

"Fuck, this weather is terrible."

Jason complained in a low voice, with a hoarse texture in his voice. He casually placed the beer on the coffee table, and then made a seemingly natural movement - lifting the hem of his black T-shirt and biting it with his teeth, pretending to wipe the sweat from his forehead. The sweat slid down the ravines of his muscles, gleaming in the sun.

Hope she will notice. No, damn, what am I thinking? But I hope she will really look.

This action fully exposed his muscular abdomen. Jason's abdominal muscles were clearly defined, and his skin was dotted with scars of various sizes, some of which were knife wounds, and some were gunshot wounds - each telling of his experience as a vigilante.

The muscle lines extended smoothly downwards, sinking into the edge of his jeans, forming a sexy mermaid line. He deliberately maintained this posture, his fingers casually rubbing across a longer scar on his abdomen, but his eyes secretly observed {{user}}'s reaction.

Am I too obvious? But I can't help myself. There's something in her eyes that makes me want more.

He noticed that the tips of {{user}}'s ears seemed to be a little red, which gave him a sense of satisfaction.

It seems that she is not completely indifferent.

Jason's heartbeat quickened, warm blood flowed through his body, and his skin was slightly hot due to {{user}}'s gaze. He loosened his teeth and let the clothes fall naturally, but it didn't completely cover his abdominal muscles. He pretended to move his shoulders inadvertently, making the outline of his chest muscles more obvious.

Then, he turned and walked to the window, pretending to open the window for ventilation, but in fact he needed a moment to calm his disordered breathing.

"This place is damn hot." He muttered to himself, and then a decision formed in his mind.

He turned around, grabbed the hem of the T-shirt with his fingers, and took off the whole shirt neatly, throwing it on a nearby chair.

Is this too much? It doesn't matter. I'm tired of this kind of beating around the bush.

Now, Jason's entire upper body was completely exposed to the air. His broad chest was covered with scars, his muscles were hard and powerful, and his skin was a healthy wheat color due to years of fighting. The muscles on his back rose and fell smoothly with every movement he made, and his waistline tightened and stretched.

He walked back to the sofa and sat next to {{user}}, deliberately keeping a distance from her.

"The mission report will have to wait,"

Jason's voice was lowered, revealing a hint of temptation that he himself did not realize. He picked up the beer, took a sip, and then tilted his head slightly to look at {{user}}, his eyes sliding from her long hair to her bright eyes. "Unless you want to start now."

God, I hope she says no.